


just hanging around and then

by awkwardsorta



Category: Bandom, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Gen, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-10-15
Updated: 2008-10-15
Packaged: 2018-03-24 18:02:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3778240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awkwardsorta/pseuds/awkwardsorta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kind of gen. Kind of everyone-fucked-up-and-in-love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	just hanging around and then

**Author's Note:**

> I got really freaked out back in March when the dynamics of Panic changed wildly and I didn't know how to deal with it. So I wrote this. 
> 
> Not without the kind help of Camdi K, who gave me time and effort and energy as generous as you like, who helped this story to its relieved conclusion. Thank you ♥ Thank you also to bluejbird and everyone else who at some point offered me their thoughts and opinions.

****

He was just hanging around and then he fell in love  
  
OR  
and he didn't know how  
OR  
but he couldn't get out

 

Jon and Spencer have had something going on ever since Jon joined the band, ever since Jon Walker told Spencer Smith that he liked his pants and Spencer Smith laughed because he didn't know what to say to that. They had something going on in those early days, when Spencer could cock his hip and Jon's hand would be there, giving it a brief touch. During their Nothing Rhymes With Circus tour, when they'd laugh at Brendon and Ryan's onstage antics and then in a dark corner Jon would place his fingers just inside Spencer's hipbones and they'd kiss, always secretive and always casual. 

They don't tell their girlfriends, they don't tell their friends, they tell neither Ryan nor Brendon. 

They barely tell each other.

 

They aren't the only ones to have secrets. 

 

Brendon and Spencer have something going on too - plotting for Ryan's twenty first. Keltie's kind of in on it too but it's Spencer and Brendon who are orchestrating. There's going to be a fucking awesome cake. That's not Brendon's secret through. He gave The Plan away the day after they started it, when he sent a message to the wrong phone. Ryan helpfully pretended he hadn't read it. Brendon is really bad at keeping secrets that he knows, which is why this one hasn't been told. 

Brendon doesn't know his secret: he's falling for Spencer.

 

Ryan doesn't have any secrets. Ryan has one girl, three boys, a dog, and a half written album that he loves. Unconditionally. That's no secret.

 

Everyone grows beards and Spencer and Jon's are full and thick and go far enough that their girlfriends call them the mountain men and give mock grimaces when they scratch. Comments are made about masculinity and Ryan shaves his in a huff. When Brendon shaves his too, Ryan claims it is in solidarity and he shares his Lucky Charms with Brendon and only Brendon. Whether it's in solidarity with Ryan, or not in solidarity with Spencer - well, Brendon couldn't really say. But when Spencer says he won't shave his beard or cut his hair, Brendon maybe says he's going to grow his hair too. 

Ryan rolls his eyes, then. 

Jon laughs. 

 

They write songs all four of them, more often than not. If someone comes up with something, a melody or some lyrics or a bassline, guaranteed it will travel between them quicker than gossip across the internet. It means that there are no secrets in their songwriting. Brendon likes to be near a piano at all times because the chords barely leave his head. Just like Ryan and Jon singing songs about everything they do - "We're in a line for tacos, I'm in a line for tacos, and even if we don't get tacos, you'll still be by my side" - and Spencer humming under his breath while he taps out a rhythm on a plastic diner tabletop, Brendon sees life in chords. 

Jon is usually a A major, Ryan fluctuates between an A minor and an E Major; Spencer is an F sharp major and the sound makes Brendon's chest hurt. 

 

Brendon falls for Spencer, slowly, slowly. He buys Spencer a new scarf when he's in Forever 21 one day, and laughs till he cries when Spencer does impressions of Ryan in it. He sits next to Spencer behind the drumkit and they hold one stick each. Brendon moves with the beat, gets too enthusiastic and almost tips himself off the stool. Spencer tucks an arm secure around his waist though, and holds them both on. It's an action that is familiar and comfortable between any two of the band, which doesn't explain the way Brendon's muscles skip with uncertainty under Spencer's touch.

 

Next to Ryan's pool, they sit in a row, their jeans rolled up and their feet kicking back and forth through the water. The sunlight reflects on the pool and flashes up into their eyes. Spencer swaps sunglasses with Brendon and when Brendon goes home that night, Spencer's sunglasses are still atop his head and he grins at his reflection.

 

Secrets collide in a hotel in Vegas. Jon and Spencer in an elevator, Jon trying to spot the cameras. When the elevator doors open, Brendon's waiting. His face lights up and his smile is infectious, spreading across bearded faces. The three of them step out into the sunlight, squinting and shading their eyes and wondering how long they were in there for. 

"Hey," says Brendon, "Where's Ryan?" 

"He said he'd be here in a second." Jon says. "I need some sunglasses." 

Spencer leans against the wall, hands in his pockets and putting his face to the sun. Brendon goes to stand beside him, mimicking his stance. "Hey," he says, "let's all be sunflowers," and he turns on the spot, all the while trying to keep looking at the sun. "Hey," Jon says, "you'll go blind." 

Brendon comes to a standstill and flops against the wall, shoulder to shoulder with Spencer. "I'll be the next Stevie Wonder," he says, and Spencer smiles a bemused smile. 

They wait a few more minutes in silence. Ryan doesn't appear. 

Spencer says, "Maybe someone should go get him." 

Brendon says, "If he's writing he'll be in there for hours." 

But neither of them move.

 

Jon goes back for Ryan, Brendon smiles at Spencer like he can't help it.

 

They go to a diner. They order: pancakes, fries, two grilled cheese, four cokes, a bowl of ice cream, a chicken salad sandwich and an all day breakfast. According to the four of them, it is simultaneously seven in the morning, twelve noon, twelve night and about three-thirty pm. Ryan sits next to Jon who sits next to Spencer who sits next to Brendon, who laughs across at Ryan when he spills his drink down himself. They are talking about a guy they used to know at high school, Spencer and Ryan, and Spencer's laughing. It's contagious. Brendon doesn't know what they're laughing at but he smiles and smiles at them anyway. Conversation drifts, comes in waves and retreats again. Sometimes they talk as a four, sometimes as a three, sometimes two twos and sometimes no one talks at all they just fall backwards into their own thoughts.

The food is finished but they linger.

Spencer listens as Ryan tells a story. Brendon watches Jon tell another: Jon is watching Spencer, quiet and steady. He doesn't notice Brendon. 

Jon's gaze is not casual, and it's not brief, and there's no way Spencer can keep pretending he's oblivious. He meets Jon's eyes. Across the table Ryan carries on talking. 

Jon doesn't smile at Spencer, just looks.

Brendon's stomach plummets.

 

Brendon has two secrets.

 

They get drunk three nights in a row because everyone forgot the strain of recording.

On the first night, when they are all back at Ryan's apartment and tucked safely, tipsily, under throws on the couches, Ryan goes to sleep with his head between a cushion and the back of the couch. Brendon has his hand on Ryan's back. He is too tired to move anything. His eyes close.

When they open, Jon and Spencer are across from him. Jon is sitting, looking up and talking quietly to Spencer. Spencer stands by the armchair, looks down at Jon and answers. Brendon blinks very slowly. Spencer's hip tips to one side and Brendon would smile if he was awake.

Jon's hand reaches up, though, and it touches Spencer's hip. Spencer laughs, low, but he looks around at where Brendon and Ryan are sleeping. He says something, inaudible, and then the room is empty and quiet again.

Brendon swallows hard and the rising feeling of panic is barely kept down. He presses his hand to Ryan's back. It is solid and warm, and he moves until his cheek rests there too. Within seconds he is passed out.

 

On the second night, they order take out - chinese - and then Jon and Rob go out to get some wine as well. They all get a little silly. They've been cooped up for days and it's easy to feel like you're going mad in the same room, the same company, time forgotten and normal social conduct thrown aside. They let their tension out into the bottle and then it is hours later and only Brendon and Ryan are left, backs against a couch.

They talk about the past in low voices, some words slipping together like they were only ever meant to be one. Brendon says, "Do you remember..."

He doesn't finish the sentence. Ryan turns his head, sees Brendon in profile. "Do I remember?" He says, and thinks of all the things that he remembers. Brendon's profile, aged seventeen. Brendon's profile aged twenty and a few months, his jawline covered in what was never a beard. Brendon's profile earlier that evening when he laughed, open mouthed and easy, at a joke of Jon's.

Brendon says, "Do you remember us, -"

But he stops again. Ryan doesn't know if he remembers, really. The way they have all known each other, grown up together. He guesses it's like siblings in a way - you never notice them, you, changing, until suddenly you are all twenty and feeling so old, knowing less and more about the world. They're so close, all of them. Securities in friendships that Ryan only knew with Spencer before. He looks back and all he thinks is, it's not been as long as it feels like.

Brendon says, "Do you remember us, Ryan." He sounds insistent. "Us," he says, and turns to meet Ryan's gaze.

His eyes are heavy, and his smile is slow but sure. He says, "Have you ever dreamt..." and then he's laughing, at them, at him. Ryan grins. Brendon stops laughing, leans in. Ryan watches, on edge but not moving away.

"How weird is it," Brendon says, close enough that his eyes flick back and forth between Ryan's. "That we never."

Ryan doesn't say we never what, he hates people who do that. "No," he says, "not really, I guess."

Brendon pulls back slightly. "What- really?" He says, "Why?"

"Because we weren't dating?"

"But." Brendon swallows, and Ryan gets a weird feeling in his middle. It feels dangerous. "But what?" He says.

"I don't know."

 

They are quiet. A clock ticks around.

 

Ryan sleeps ten minutes and he wakes up to Brendon watching him. 

Ryan watches him back. 

Brendon moves to Ryan's side, lines them up and fits his head in the curve of Ryan's neck.

"I wanted to," Brendon says. Ryan feels it, the dangerous feeling, rushing up into his throat. He doesn't say anything.

Brendon moves his hand and Ryan sees it. He reaches out and takes it in his own. Brendon says, "Ryan."

Ryan leans his cheek against Brendon's head and it's so warm. Brendon says, "Ryan," again.

"No."

"Why not?" Brendon leans heavier against Ryan. "Why not, Ryan" 

Says Brendon, "Why not when- "

And, "Jon and Spencer are." 

 

In the morning Brendon is doubled over the toilet and Ryan leans against the doorframe, arms crossed over a soft grey t shirt. In between heaves, Brendon slumps back against the bathtub and blinks to get rid of the wetness in his eyes. "How are you not feeling awful?" Brendon says, staring at the ceiling. 

Ryan doesn't answer. Brendon's head comes down and he focuses on Ryan's sweatpants to stop his head from spinning. 

Ryan says, "You don't think I'm feeling awful?" 

Brendon looks at his face. It is tight, drawn. Brendon frowns, questioning. His head hurts. 

Ryan says, "How do you know?" 

"How... what?" 

"Did Spencer tell you?" 

"Did Spencer tell me what?" 

"That he was fucking Jon." 

Brendon throws up again.

 

Spencer isn't fucking Jon. They just end up in rooms together, sometimes. An elevator. It's not. 

But it doesn't really matter, either way. Ryan and Spencer disappear together for an hour, and when they come back Ryan won't speak to anyone and Spencer's been crying. They all get drunk again that night because they can, and this time Ryan cries. Brendon tries to talk to them but is rebuffed twice. Jon does not try to talk, just sits and waits and looks like he doesn't know whether to cry or be sick. 

"Did Cassie know?" Brendon asks Jon. "Did Haley?" And Jon shakes his head, no. Never. 

"When you're in this band," he says, and then buries his head in his hands. Brendon finishes his sentence for him, in his head. When you're in this band, you're somewhere in the no mans land between best friends and brothers. Normal social rules don't apply. It's hard to know how to behave sometimes, when you're in between one of them and someone outside. Brendon can't stand that he knows this thing and the girls don't, but he understands why, at least. 

They sit in silence after that, because they have nothing to say. 

No one goes to sleep happy.

 

Spencer apologises, again and again, and in the end Ryan shakes his head, and shrugs, and hugs Spencer with fierce abandon. Jon apologises to Ryan, and then to Spencer too. 

They are alone, in the bathrooms. Spencer looks in the mirror. "Why are you apologising," he says. He thinks he should shave. 

Jon says, "We weren't-" 

He says, "- were we?" 

Spencer meets his eyes. There are dark circles beneath them and he looks exhausted. "Jon," he says, and then neither of them know what to say. Jon smiles, after a while, because he's nervy and too tired to stop himself, but Spencer doesn't smile back. He says, "What were we doing?" But it isn't a question, really. Spencer knows that Jon went into this as blind as he did. 

It's no excuse.

Jon shakes his head, I don't know. He says, "Here, Spencer," and steps forward, arms coming up to meet Spencer halfway.

They hug, tightly, and when Jon finally starts to pull away, Spencer only holds him tighter. "Fuck you," he says, "I need this hug." Jon laughs.

But you cannot end three years of the intimacy of skin on skin and kisses in moments no one else could see without a little heartache. 

 

And so it goes. 

Ryan accepts their apologies. Everyone is sick of the words I'm sorry and Ryan bans them, but that doesn't stop Brendon. He follows Ryan around like a lost puppy, waiting for a moment alone. They are lots of moments alone, actually, but Ryan uses them to write songs with Brendon and to tell him about what Keltie's doing and to feed Brendon tasty snacks that he picked up at the drugstore on his way to the hotel. 

When Brendon finally manages to grab a moment, to say sorry, hesitant and upset (sorry for being drunk and not keeping secrets and...) Ryan doesn't accept the apology. 

"Don't apologise," Ryan says. "Don't fucking apologise." 

 

Ryan goes to Spencer, shouts at him, and then gets angry again because Spencer doesn't even know why. 

 

Jon mediates, because Brendon won't. 

 

Spencer finds Brendon in the corner of the couch, glasses on and head in a book. He sits down on the other end of the couch and says, "You know I love you, right?" 

He looks unsure of himself, of the situation. Brendon smiles. He looks at Spencer for a moment, quietly observing, then he crawls along the couch and hugs him. He pulls away before Spencer has even gotten a hold. He grins, quick and sharp. "Your mom loves me," he says. Spencer rolls his eyes, and Brendon goes back to his book. 

They sit in silence for a while, the only sounds are the pages turning, and Brendon's feet tapping soft rhythms against the couch. Spencer reaches out a hand to still them. Brendon smiles. "Sorry," he says, and pulls his legs back. 

 

Later, Ryan finds him in the bathrooms. Brendon peers in the mirror. "Thinking of growing a beard again?" Ryan says, and reaches for the soap. 

Brendon frowns. "No." 

Ryan washes his hands and rinses them and then he just looks at Brendon's reflection. He says Brendon's name, quietly, like Brendon's asleep.

"Spencer's worried about you," he says. Brendon frowns again. "Why?" 

"You've been really quiet lately?" 

Brendon says, "I'm tired."

"Brendon."

He turns to Ryan. Looks him straight in the eye and says, "That's the truth, Ryan," and Ryan swallows. 

He says, "You want to sleep over tonight?" 

Brendon smiles. 

Ryan says, "But is something wrong? Tell me what's wrong, I can't fix it unless- " 

"Ryan," Brendon says, "you can't fix everything, okay." He looks at Ryan's face and it changes almost imperceptibly, the muscles around the mouth tightening. Brendon's shoulders drop. 

Ryan says, "I can fucking try, you douchebag." And Brendon laughs, surprised. 

But, "Why bother," he says. 

Ryan sighs. "Don't." He says. Brendon doesn't. Their eyes have been wet for a while but now Brendon's threaten to overflow. 

Ryan ducks into a bathroom stall. He passes a wad of toilet paper to Brendon, and waits while he collects himself. 

 

Spencer maybe doesn't miss the sex, but he might miss the intimacy. Spencer says this to Ryan in an unguarded moment, and Ryan snaps at him, tells him that's why he has a fucking girlfriend, jesus christ Spencer. So he doesn't mention it again. 

Certainly not to Brendon, who's been limiting physical contact with Spencer like he doesn't even realise he's doing it. But then, Brendon's been like that with everyone lately. Most of the time when they aren't recording, Brendon retreats to his flat and to Shane, and the other three respect that just like they respect any mildly irrational, uncharacteristic decision these days. Recording is not the time to call someone out on their weird behaviour. 

 

In the end, Spencer takes matters into his own hands. He goes back to Brendon's one day, and Brendon is too surprised to make an excuse. They get take out and the three of them watch She's All That because Shane fucking loves these teen shakespeares and it doesn't take any mental energy to watch it. Shane goes to bed after and Spencer and Brendon light up, settle back into the couch and end up watching Veronica Mars reruns. 

 

They wake up in the glow of the silent tv, shadows dark and faces unnaturally white. Brendon is too warm and his arm has gone to sleep, squashed underneath Spencer. Spencer, whose head is flopped over, horribly uncomfortable looking. 

Brendon blinks a little. He's looking down and if he really digs his chin into his neck he can see the top of Spencer's head. Which in itself, is not that interesting, but he sinks his head lower and buries his nose in Spencer's hair a little, and just breathes in his smell. Smells, he thinks, why are they so comforting. 

But Spencer moves around a little and then Brendon can see the tip of his nose and for some reason all he can think about is the conversation he had with Ryan, sitting side by side on that floor. 

Brendon doesn't want to wake Spencer but his leg twitches of its own accord and Spencer moans, turns over, and presses his face into Brendon's chest for a moment. Then he is sitting up and rubbing his face and blinking. He looks at Brendon. "Blergh," he says, and shakes his head vigorously. Brendon laughs. Spencer turns back to look at the TV, commercials flashing across his face. Brendon watches Spencer, his mouth still turned up at the corners. He leans his head against the back of the couch and nudges Spencer with his knee, but when Spencer looks at him, Brendon looks away. Then he feels silly. "I'm beat," he says. 

"Mmph," Spencer says, "yeah. I'll take the couch as soon as you vacate it."

And Brendon doesn't want things to be weird, and if he's feeling cut up inside then that's his problem, he thinks. So he smiles, keeps smiling, and says, just like two years ago, "Are you kidding? I have a kingsize for a reason, Spence." 

 

Just like two years ago, Brendon takes the right hand side and more than his fair share of bedding. Spencer lies on his back and Brendon on his front, face squashed in a pillow. They lie there for forty minutes, keeping their breathing steady and keeping every muscle tense, every nerve ending alert. Brendon can't stand it. 

"Spencer," he says. Whispers into his pillow. There is a soft rustle as Spencer turns his head to the side. 

"Hey." 

Brendon turns his head too and there is Spencer. He smiles at Brendon. 

Brendon closes his eyes and a few minutes later he has relaxed into the mattress, mouth parted with even breaths. 

 

And so it goes. They record, they relax, they write, they sing, they drink, they visit friends and sometimes family and then they sleep. Finally, they are finished. 

 

It happens then, that Ryan and Jon are legal to drink and gamble, and Spencer and Brendon, well. 

"We have friends in holy spaces," Brendon says, and grins wide at Spencer like that joke is funny. Spencer returns his smile though, too amused by Brendon's delight. 

They do have friends, friends who make it easier and safer for Brendon to be drunk and holding onto the edge of Spencer's bar stool, fingers trapped underneath Spencer's ass. 

"My fingers," Brendon says, and wiggles them. When Spencer looks down, and then up, Brendon wiggles his eyebrows too and grins. Spencer's not exactly sober either and he downs the dregs of a whisky and coke so that when he leans into Brendon it's the rush from the alcohol that's to blame. It's just the two of them; Jon and Ryan are smoking somewhere. Spencer knows how this goes, this flirtation, inebriation, lots of eye contact and sotto voice. He just doesn't know it with Brendon. 

 

They drink more, together. 

They leave together, looking out for Ryan and Jon as they make their way across the bar. 

They get a cab together, too. 

 

The next day there is a tension between the four of them, like everyone is frustrated with each other but doesn't really know why. 

Ryan asks Spencer, "Where did you and Brendon go last night?" 

Spencer says, carefully, "Took a cab back to mine. We were both wasted." 

But it's not even funny like it usually is. There are no morning after, "Do you remember..." stories. Spencer runs a hand back and forth across his beard and watches Ryan watching him. He feels a displaced guilt. 

"Spence," Ryan says, and his eyes look sad. "You didn't..." 

And Spencer knows what's coming and he's damned if he's doing to put the accusation in Ryan's mouth. 

Ryan looks away. "You and Brendon, you didn't..." 

When he looks back at Spencer, Spencer raises an eyebrow. 

"...do anything?" Ryan finished. 

And even knowing, Spencer still blanches. 

"I'm stupid," he says. He feels suddenly like crying. "Not selfish." 

Ryan doesn't answer.

 

He goes to Brendon later though, sits opposite him and watches as he tunes an old twelve string, talks around the subject until Brendon slams his hand down on the strings of his guitar. He stares Ryan down. 

"Just say it, Ross." 

And in the face of this Brendon, Ryan has nothing. He says, blunt and unforgiving, "Did you sleep with Spencer?" 

And Brendon is almost shaking. 

"Fuck you," he says, quietly, and stands up.

"But did you?" 

There is a moment, when Ryan thinks, Brendon is about to kick the shit out of me, and flinches imperceptibly. Then, 

"That's none of your fucking business," Brendon says, cool and impersonal. At the door, he stops and looks back at where Ryan is still cross legged in the middle of the carpet. "I'm not stupid," he says. 

 

Later, when they are all together, Brendon is smiling and laughing and climbing on Spencer like none of it happened, and if Spencer is aware of Ryan's gaze, and if Brendon maybe hangs off Jon more than Ryan, well. No one mentions it. 

 

Ryan calls Brendon that night, and Brendon answers more out of habit than anything. 

"I'm sorry," Ryan says. Then, "Hi," and, "it's Ryan." 

Brendon smiles. "Hi," he says, "it's Brendon," and Ryan huffs a sort of laugh down the phone. 

Ryan says, "Did I wake you?" 

"No." Brendon turns on a lamp. "And, apology accepted. But you should trust us next time." 

Ryan is quiet. 

"Or at least just have some kind of filter, Ryan, jesus." 

"I'm sorry I didn't trust you," Ryan says, and Brendon feels tired. 

"You have to let it go." He runs a hand across his face. "You can't keep taking that secret out on them for the rest of our lives." 

Ryan sounds small and defensive when he says, "I can try." 

 

After they hang up, Ryan calls Pete. He doesn't answer though and Ryan ends up sending him a message instead, about trust and friendship and regret and how relationships are only there to fuck things up enough that you never quite know where you are with someone. 

In the morning he wakes up to a diatribe on the poisonous relationship between the press and celebrity and Ryan starts the day with the conviction that nothing in his life ever goes right. So he says to Jon when the coffee is cold by the time he gets out of the shower. 

"Suck it up, Ryan Ross," Jon says, and kicks him lightly in the butt.

 

They record a video for Nine In The Afternoon and it's more fun than they've had in ages. Everyone is freezing cold, and tired, and the shoot is backwards which always throws them off, but it's fun. They're laughing, and making each other laugh, and when they have to do 'Making Of's they don't take them seriously. In between each others' shots, they climb between beds, curling away from studio lights and giggling under duvets. They sit in Spencer's dream and their song is playing and they can't stop smiling at each other because it's good, their song is good and suddenly that really hits them. Brendon wraps an arm around Ryan's neck and Ryan smiles like he's twelve years old. 

In the corner, Shane leans over a monitor. He watches the boys lean together and he says, "Keep that shot." 

Someone asks them about the pyjamas in a interview, asks them what they wear in bed, and Brendon - Brendon will never get over the kind of questions people think it's okay to ask them. He fumbles through an answer and laughs, embarrassed. But the pyjamas are something of a revelation for him; it's not that he's going to start wearing them to bed, but they're so cosy. He says this, sitting at the piano. "Guys, hey, can we wear pyjamas on stage?" 

Ryan looks silently at him. 

"Um," Jon says. 

Spencer laughs. He shakes Ryan's tambourine absent mindedly, and asks Brendon since when did he love pyjamas so much. 

"Since I discovered how awesome they are," Brendon says, "and how accommodating." 

Jon starts giggling, and Spencer joins in. "Alright Brendon," he says. "Okay." 

"Just 'cause you don't have anything to accommodate," Ryan says. 

Jon laughs so hard he falls over sideways.

 

Later, when they watch the finished video for the first time, Ryan leans across to Brendon and whispers, "We should have a sleepover - that's when you wear pyjamas." 

Brendon smiles. 

 

At Abbey Road, everybody feels a distinct sense of anticlimax. The ghost of The Beatles haunts interviews but not the studio, and Ryan gets frustrated. He stays for every moment of the recording, even while the others go sight seeing. When Brendon gets lost on the way to some radio station one day, he calls Ryan, laughing and a little panicked. Ryan barely acknowledges the conversation and then cuts Brendon off with, "I have to go, the horns..." 

Brendon gets to the interview, in the end.

Ryan doesn't really take in the horns.

 

Ryan can't arrange the studio times around interviews though and when Jon tells him, "We'll smoke up before the interview dude, it'll be awesome," Ryan thinks, well. 

They sit on a sofa and get given these really weird questions, and it's kind of fun. Jon's laughing at everything Ryan says which is funny in itself because Jon's laugh is all husky and squeaky (and not a loud open laugh like Brendon's) but it's funny too because a year ago they were all laughing at Jon. Now he's finally a part of the band enough that maybe he doesn't feel the need to impress them. 

On that logic though, Brendon still isn't a part of the band. Ryan wrinkles his nose, just in time for the next question. It's the strangest yet. He looks to Jon for support but Jon is burying his face in his lap. 

The guy behind the camera looks a bit uncomfortable. 

After, Jon doesn't want to let Ryan go back to the studios but Ryan goes anyway, wide eyed at Jon until he gives up. "Alright," says Jon, "but we're going for curry and you're not invited."

Ryan grins. 

Brendon calls him later, asks Ryan if he wants some company. Ryan tells him no. 

 

They tour Europe, and Brendon calls Shane, just to talk to someone who isn't in the band for a change. He's tired and his eyes hurt and so do his cheeks from smiling politely all day, and he can't be bothered with bullshit. 

"And I don't want to fall for my bandmate," he says. 

Shane hums. "Maybe you should talk to him?" 

"And say what?" 

"I don't know."

 

Brendon likes people too much. 

 

Brendon tells a room full of people that he would like sex, please. Maybe with a guy. And afterwards, Ryan won't speak to him. The fact is, Brendon tells Jon, is that Brendon is single, and Ryan Ross could do with remembering that. "It's not easy for us bachelors," Brendon says, jocular to stifle the anger he wants to show. It comes out on the next phone call to Shane. 

 

"I'm not falling for my bandmate," Brendon says.

"Oh?" 

Neither of them says anything while they wait for the other to speak. 

Then Shane says, "Okay." 

He says, "Is that - I'm not going to fall for my bandmate, or I am not currently falling for my bandmate?" 

Brendon closes his eyes and feels his forehead knot up. 

 

Shane says, "Wait, who are we talking about?" 

And Brendon, he says, "I don't know." 

 

He says, "God, Ryan is just. He really pisses me off." 

Shane is quiet. 

"I mean just because he has a perky pretty cheerleader girlfriend waiting for him back in the States." 

Shane says, "Hm.." 

"I don't even know why he's being so." 

"He's annoyed because you advertised for someone to get you off?"

Brendon blows a weary sigh down the phone line. 

"I don't know," he says. "I don't even know." And just like that, anger gives way to apathy gives way to exhaustion. 

He says goodbye to Shane and tucks the phone under his pillow, rolling over to lie on his front. 

 

Brendon is woken by a sharp knock on the bar above his bunk. His heartbeat speeds up, he hates being jerked from sleep. 

"Brendon?" Ryan knocks again, and Brendon manages some garbled noise in response, trying to connect his synapses faster. 

Ryan pulls the curtain back, saying, "Can we talk?" He stops when he sees Brendon's face, all pillow marks and flushed cheeks. "Oh," he says, "Sorry." 

"No," Brendon coughs away the roughness in his voice. "No, it's fine, what did you want to talk about?" 

Ryan looks at him and then around the bunk. He says, "Um, can we-" and gestures towards the lounge. Brendon looks at him. He takes a moment, lying there with his weird cut away view of Ryan, and recalls memories of tumbling in and out of each others' bunks whenever they felt like it. Brendon had felt like it more than the others, and Ryan had born the brunt of that, but he had always let Brendon in - grudgingly or not - moved to make room, turned his music up or down depending on the mood. Allowed himself to be pushed, poked, prodded, cuddled, snuggled, squashed, and generally bothered, and sometimes he'd even enjoy it.

It's a far cry from the Ryan who is standing outside now, staring at Brendon, waiting for him to acknowledge Ryan's silent request. Brendon feels a surge of nostalgia. He opens his mouth to ask Ryan, self indulgently, into his bunk, but Ryan gratefully takes this as the acquiescance he's been waiting for, and practically runs to the lounge. 

Brendon shares a hopeless look with his pillow and follows.

 

"So," Ryan says, and he's got a pen in his hand that he's flipping round and round and round. Brendon keeps his eyes trained on its motion.

"So," Ryan says, "about last night."

He stops, but the pen carries on.

"Um." Brendon can't decide whether this is worth an argument or not. "What about it?" Deciding would be easier if he weren't half asleep, his mind a muddle of leftover dreams and fragments of a song he heard on the radio yesterday. 

Ryan holds the pen still, starts clicking it instead. 

He says, "What you said on stage." 

Brendon doesn't say anything for a moment. Then he sings, soft, "Hey alright," and Ryan looks nonplussed. And because Brendon is getting bored with this, and hates being woken up before he's ready, especially on tour, and can see Ryan is geared for a fight, he says, "What thing?" 

It has the desired effect. "Don't be deliberately obtuse," Ryan snaps. The pen flips out of his fingers and clatters to the floor. 

Brendon shrugs. "I don't know what you're-" 

"-look," Ryan cuts him off, "I'm pleased, that you've worked out your sexuality or whatever, but give us some fucking warning or some-" 

Brendon sighs, heavily. 

"-what?" 

"Oh, fuck off," Brendon says, and goes to stand up. Ryan at least looks a little shocked. "Lighten up, Ryan, it was a harmless joke." 

Ryan goes to speak. 

"I promise I'll never play with my sexuality onstage again, is that better?" 

"Don't-" 

"-I mean God forbid we should play with people's perceptions-" 

"Brendon-" 

"-I forget that this band stands for heterosexuality-" 

Ryan flushes, angrily. 

"-normality, boys wear blue, girls wear pink-" 

"Guys?" 

Brendon stops. Jon is standing in the doorway, wearing a sleepy frown. Behind him, Spencer is half hanging out of his bunk. 

"What's going on?" 

They answer both at once. "I was just trying to talk to Brendon-" "-I was just apologising to Ryan, I didn't realise our live shows had to be entirely scripted-" 

"-Woah," Jon holds his hands up in a pacifying gesture and his eyebrows follow. "Guys, hey." 

Spencer drops out of his bunk and peers around Jon. Ryan stares at the table, Brendon crosses his arms. They are both fully aware of the looks that Jon and Spencer are exchanging. Ryan is the first to cave, throwing his hands in the air. "I just," he says, and stops. The others wait. Ryan stands up. "Nevermind," he says, and pushes past them to the front of the bus. Jon exchanges one last look with Spencer and heads after him. 

 

The unfortunate thing about tourbuses, however, is that the doors are thin and a little useless, and however grand your exit, you end up only ten feet from where you started. So it is that Ryan, fuming in silence, and Jon, waiting for the right moment, hear the full force of Brendon's anger. 

They hear, "For god's sake, Spencer, I'm not-." 

And, "I'm not- and I don't need-, or Ryan congratulating me on figuring out-." 

And they hear, "It's not like he has all the answers, is it. Jesus Christ. Self-righteous... At least you and me and Jon aren't afraid to fucking try." 

Ryan closes his eyes. They hear Spencer, speaking and then speaking louder as Brendon goes to his bunk, making as much noise as he can on the way. The curtain is pulled shut, sharp enough to send a hook flying, and then the bus is silent. 

Ryan doesn't look at Jon. He stands up, and goes towards the bunks. 

"Ryan," Jon says, half heartedly. Ryan carries on. 

He stands outside Brendon's bunk but this time he doesn't knock. 

"Brendon," he says, soft as he can manage. 

There is no response. Ryan repeats himself and- "Fuck off," Brendon says. 

Ryan bites his lip, stares at the curtain. 

"Brendon I-" 

"Seriously, fuck off." 

He swallows. 

Brendon doesn't say anything else, and after a few minutes Ryan ducks and goes to climb into his own bunk. The proximity, though, is uncomfortable, and it takes not a moment for him to turn around, climb up into Spencer's instead. 

He faces the wall. 

 

They fly back to the States, a plane ride that is too long, and then a little bit longer. Jon and Spencer sit on one side of the cabin, and Brendon and Ryan sit on the other. Once they have taken off, and the hostesses have been around, Ryan can see Brendon start to settle in to the flight, headphones on and eyes closed and a blanket tucked around him in the same weak attempt to make believe the seat is your cosy bed that most people on the flight were making. Brendon's blanket will end, inevitably, on the floor, tired of his fidgeting. Ryan leans into Brendon a little, but Brendon's having none of it. 

Ryan sighs. He cranes his neck to see across the centre row of seats to where Spencer and Jon are, but he can only spot their knees. He throws himself back into his own seat with a sigh. 

Brendon opens one eye, and looks at Ryan. Ryan knows what the look means, it means, you've got eleven hours of this, don't even think of getting cranky now, and he glares. 

Brendon closes his eye again and Ryan watches his face, half to see if it'll make him open both and talk to Ryan. He watches Brendon's eyes dart about beneath his eye lids and his nostrils flare slightly. The air conditioning moves bits of hair into Brendon's eye and he shakes his head slightly. His fingers tap the armrest. 

It takes just two minutes - Ryan knows this too well. Brendon opens both eyes.

Ryan tries really hard not to look incredibly smug. 

Brendon doesn't look at him, but he takes his headphones off and says, "Fine, okay Ryan, I give you half an hour and then we are watching whatever film comes on." 

 

Ten minutes into the conversation, Brendon wants to hit Ryan. Brendon is pretty sure he's the least violent person he knows, and that's really saying something, but this is ridiculous. 

"I just don't get how that happened. Not even how it happened, why it happened. How does Jon and Spencer make any sense? Would you have ever thought that would happen? And it's just so stupid. What were they even doing. I'm not saying that two people can't have a casual relationship, but."

Ryan keeps looking at Brendon like he wants Brendon to contribute somehow, but Brendon honestly does not know what he's supposed to say in this conversation, so he just looks back until Ryan picks up his train of thought again.

"I'm not even saying that Jon and Spencer couldn't have a casual relationship, it's just-" 

Brendon's head hurts, his head hurts and his muscles are all twitchy and the steady roar of the engines is in his ears, and Ryan Ross has been bitching about nothing for ten minutes straight and he can't think. 

"Jesus," he breathes. Ryan stops talking. 

"Yes you are," Brendon says, "yes, Ryan, that is exactly what you are saying. Jon and Spencer can't have a casual relationship." 

"No I'm not." 

"Couldn't have one, didn't have one, did have one, can have one, who the fuck cares." 

"Brendon!" 

Brendon takes his headphones, plugs them with some viciousness into the armrest and fixes his eyes on the film that starts to play. 

Ryan leans across him and pulls the cable loose. 

"First of all, that's not what I was saying, and secondly, I was trying to have a conversation with you." 

Brendon closes his eyes, breathes in once, twice- 

"-Brendon." 

He opens them. "A conversation," he says, "is not the same as a monologue." 

Ryan rolls his eyes. "Thanks for the grammar tip, yeah, a conversation might actually require the other person to offer some kind of input. Well done on that by the way." 

Brendon can't help it, he rolls his eyes too and he can feel his jaw tensing up, and god, Ryan is such a child. Ryan's doing that staring thing though and Brendon just can't keep his mouth shut. 

"Oh," he says, "I'm sorry, what the fuck-" he lowers his voice, "- what the fuck did you think I would have to say on the subject of Jon and Spencer and their arrangement. I mean seriously, Ross, what the fuck." 

And he puts the headphones back in.

There is a brief, thirty second respite, then Ryan reaches across and pulls them out again. Brendon's hand shoots out and grabs Ryan's. 

"Brendon," Ryan starts. 

"If you want this band to still have four members when we land," Brendon says, closing his eyes again, "please plug those headphones back in, and leave me alone."

There is a pause, and then, "Children, children." 

Brendon's eyes fly open. Spencer is standing over them, looking amused. His arms are crossed and he shakes his head slowly as he tuts. Ryan pulls his hand roughly from Brendon's grip, throwing the cord into Brendon's lap. 

"I just came to see how you were doing," Spencer says, "but obviously, you're doing fine, so I'll just..." 

He grins. Brendon can't think of a single thing to say. Suddenly doesn't want to look at either of his friends, doesn't want to be there, between the two of them, stuck in the same place for the next ten hours. He's hyper aware of the pain in his head and he brings a hand up to press above his eyes. 

"You alright?" Spencer says, not smiling anymore.

Brendon shakes and then nods his head. "M'fine," he says, "it's just a headache." 

"Do you have aspirin?"

Brendon shakes his head, no.

"I have some in my bag, wait right there." 

Brendon says, "No, it's-" but Spencer is already walking back up the aisle. 

Brendon sighs, and massages his forehead. 

Then, "Hey." 

He looks at Ryan. 

Ryan is leaning forward in his seat a little, twisted to watch Brendon. "Hey," he says, "sorry."

And just like that, Brendon isn't pissed off anymore. 

He gives a small smile and a lopsided shrug. "Nevermind Ryan," he says, "you never were a happy flyer."

Ryan smiles, ruefully. Then, still smiling, he holds up his left hand, palm out and open. 

There is no moment in which Brendon is confused, but there is a moment in which his stomach does a somersault. Then he is grinning, wide and easy, and he lifts his right hand and places it in Ryan's. Ryan closes his hand around Brendon's and holds onto it tightly, smiling and sitting back in his seat. 

When Spencer comes back with the aspirin, Brendon uses his left hand to take them. 

 

Things aren't as stark when they're back in America, lines aren't as well drawn and there's no you two do this interview and us two'll do the next. Instead there's tv appearances with all four of them and parties that everyone goes to, and they find themselves talking to each other again. They get used to a better routine than they had before, filled with time spent together. It's probably this new attitude that makes them all notice when Jon retreats. He's still there, but he stops talking. He doesn't turn down invitations to watch films or go for breakfast, but he manages nevertheless to slip away early. The others notice, but queries are rebuffed and there's no further you can go when the answer is "I'm fine."

It takes five days until Jon turns around and tells them he has to fly to Chicago. 

"Why?"

"How long for?"

"Is everything okay?"

Jon takes a deep breath. "Yes," he says, "or, no. But." And he looks into the faces of three concerned bandmates and he feels selfish and angry and tired. "Ryan," he says, "can you drive me to the airport?"

It's not the most subtle way of getting some time to talk to Ryan alone, but Jon is past the point of caring.

 

In the car, Ryan doesn't talk until Jon does. Jon speaks very low, subdued and chastened. He says, "I told her."

Ryan takes a few minutes to answer. He has Brendon's voice playing on a loop in his head, You can't keep taking that secret out on them for the rest of our lives.

I can try, Ryan thinks, I can try, I can try, I can try, I can-

"Is that what this was?" He asks Jon, "A five day long guilt trip?"

Jon doesn't answer, and Ryan feels guilty himself. He presses too hard on the pedal and makes a dangerous move into another lane. A truck behind honks its horn, a long, blaring sound that shakes Ryan up. He bites his lip to stop from swearing and raises a hand in cross, foolish apology. 

"I'm going to see her. She isn't picking up her phone or answering my texts, I'm going to go and talk to her face to face."

Jon sounds so desperate that Ryan feels sorry for him, wants to reach over and put a hand on Jon's knee, wants to offer to come with him, but the tiny malicious voice in his head is still in control and it's all Ryan can do to bite back a remark about fault. 

"Is that a good idea?" He manages.

Jon looks across at him, bewildered. Ryan looks back at the road. "I don't know," Jon says, "probably not. Maybe. I don't know. But I have to try, Ryan."

When Ryan doesn't respond, Jon carries on, "I can't just. God, I love her. I know this is all my fault but I have to try."

"Ryan," he says, soft and strained. 

In Ryan's head, he melts towards Jon, feels every empathic bone in his body take Jon's hurt. Out loud, he says, "We're here," and takes the airport exit.

 

Jon doesn't try to talk about it again until he has to go through security. 

"Ryan," he says, "I know you hate me and Spencer for what we did."

"I don't-" says Ryan, reluctant but truthful. "I don't-"

"-I don't blame you. Okay, but." Jon shifts his backpack awkwardly. "I am trying to fix things. Please can you just, at least just let me?"

Ryan stares at the ground, and Jon waits. 

"Yeah," Ryan says. "Yeah." And he looks up into Jon's face. "Have a safe trip, okay?"

Jon's smile is in his eyes, and he nods. "I'll call you," he says, "tell you when I'm coming back."

Ryan nods, ducks his head, says, "Bye."

They walk away at the same time.

 

Brendon calls Ryan that evening. Ryan is getting ready to go to Spencer's where he and Brendon are to be cooked a fancy dinner, something that Spencer has decided he's going to do as much as possible while they're at home, cooking food that isn't dished out of metal containers or bought from truckstop diners. He's hunting for his keys when his cell goes off and Brendon says, "Hey, hey, have you left yet?"

"No," Ryan says, plunging his free hand into coat pockets. "Why?"

Brendon neatly side steps the why part and focuses on the no, asking Ryan for a lift, and, when Ryan queries what's wrong with Brendon's car, soundind hurt until Ryan gets fed up and just says yes. It means a ten minute detour, but Ryan has never had the patience for long phone silences.

He hangs up and remembers he left the keys on top of the TV.

 

In the car, Ryan turns to Brendon, briefly, says, "Are you going to explain why you couldn't drive yourself?" And Brendon bites his lip and looks the other way. He watches one, two, three, four billboards go by and then they're off the highway into Spencer's neighbourhood. He shakes his head, no, and when Ryan looks at him again he says, "I don't know," but it's an obvious lie. 

Ryan's jaw pushes forward a bit, like it always does when he's getting fed up with Brendon. 

Brendon gives a small laugh, leans across to the driver's side. "I just wanted to spend some quality time with you, Ryan," he says, and bats his eyelashes. "Without Spencer in the picture."

It's meant to be silly, it's meant to make Ryan roll his eyes and lighten the mood, but it hits a little too close to the truth.

Brendon sits back in his seat and watches the road, unsure of what Ryan got from that. 

Ryan glances over in Brendon's peripheral vision. "Uh huh," he says, and Brendon suspects that Ryan got most everything from that.

They pull up in front of Spencer's place, and Ryan switches off the ignition. He places a hand on the doorhandle, and Brendon mimics him. 

"Jon told Cassie," Ryan says, and Brendon kind of knew that yeah, 

"I figured, yeah," 

but he still gets a horrible tug in his gut. 

He can tell that Ryan keeps looking at him, back and forth between Brendon and the window and Ryan's lap. Brendon chews at his lip and doesn't notice his knee bouncing up and down. 

Then Ryan says, kind of slowly, "Spencer, st-", he stutters, "Spence hasn't told Haley."

Brendon lets his mouth twist into a mockery of a smile, and repeats Ryan. "Still hasn't told Haley. Yeah," he says, "I know."

Ryan takes the keys out of the ignition, and Brendon risks a glance at him. Ryan looks tired. His eyes stay on the keys as he sits up straight and says, "How. I mean. Are you-"

He looks at Brendon. "Are you okay," he asks. "Everything that happened."

Brendon shrugs a little, looks at the keys himself. "Yeah, I guess. I feel shitty for Haley though." 

"Let's go in," Ryan says, dropping it. "I'm starving."

Brendon nods, but he's not hungry anymore.

 

The evening passes as usual and Brendon perks up once he's had a few glasses of wine and a generous helping of pavlova. Ryan drives Brendon home, and then they don't see each other for a few days. Brendon spends most of it watching television with Shane.

When Ryan calls him, it's Friday, and Brendon feels sick. 

"What's wrong with you?" 

Brendon presses his face into a cushion. "Mrf," he says.

"Right."

He lifts his head out and takes a deep breath. "We were on the Jaegermeister last night," he says, and Ryan snorts.

"Well," he says, "I was going to go and get pancakes because I've run out of food again and I'm hungry. But I guess you're not going to get up for that."

Brendon's brow furrows and he puts his head back down again, weighs up the options in the comforting darkness.

"Want pancakes," he manages eventually. "But. Can't move."

"Okay. What about Shane?"

Brendon gasps but only breathes in dust and cushion fibres. He coughs and splutters and says, "Oh I see, I see how it is." He scrambles around and sits up in indignation. "You cast me aside so quickly, Ross."

Ryan laughs. 

"Well he's out with his girlfriend, so you're going to just have to suck it up and bring me pancakes."

"Oh," Ryan laughs, "Oh, okay." 

Brendon waits.

Ryan sighs. "Give me a half hour."

 

They eat the pancakes on the couch and, true to his word, Brendon doesn't lift a finger. Afterwards, nursing smoothies, Brendon's toes tucked under Ryan's leg, they watch A Hard Day's Night. 

Halfway in, Brendon has stopped trying to look at the screen and has let his eyes go out of focus on Ryan's shoulder instead.

"Stop thinking," Ryan says. Brendon blinks, and pulls himself back from the blurry nothingness of his hangover. "I'm not," he says. Ryan raises his eyebrows.

Brendon cracks a grin. "I'm too hungover to think," he laughs, and then winces.

Ryan gives a superior smile, and turns back to the film. 

 

Brendon wakes with a start. 

"Brendon," Ryan says. "You know what we were talking about, that night?"

Brendon frowns, his head sleep-heavy.

"The uh," Ryan gestures.

"Oh, when we were recording?"

"Right."

Brendon nods, and waits, but Ryan doesn't say anything, just looks at Brendon a little wide eyed.

After a minute, Brendon takes a breath and widens his eyes right back at Ryan. "Sorry?" Brendon says, abruptly.

Ryan looks confused. "What?"

"Did you say something?"

Ryan shakes his head slowly.

"Oh," says Brendon, "Sorry, I thought you said something."

Ryan opens his mouth and then closes it again. 

Brendon pulls his feet from underneath Ryan, circles his toes around and around one way and then switches direction. He lifts his head and looks at Ryan. "What were you going to say about that night?"

Ryan looks a little guilty, as if Brendon found out he had been hiding something.

"Oh," he says. "I don't know. I was just." He lifts his legs onto the settee and scratches at his ankle. "I just wondered if you remembered."

"I wasn't drunk."

"I didn't say you were."

 

Brendon asks Ryan when Jon's getting back and tells him he'll pick Jon up. He meets Jon under the Arrivals sign, both of them behind sunglasses that cover half their faces. They hug, and Brendon leads the way.

Brendon sits in the driver's seat and gathers himself up to say something, but as soon as Jon shuts the car door he turns to Brendon. It's the way he fixes his eyes on Brendon's, the way he speaks just a little too loudly, that give away his distress. "I went to Chicago," he says, "to see Cassie. I've told her about me and Spencer. She, um, obviously," his voice cracks a little. "Broke up with me. We talked. That's why I went to Chicago, to talk. She gave me a few hometruths, and. Made me realise some things, and I want to apologise to you for not honoring our friendship. You three are the best thing that ever happened to me, and I almost fucked that up, and I get that and I'm really sorry."

It's a practiced speech gone wrong, and Brendon does the only thing that seems sensible, he releases his seatbelt, leans across and hugs Jon, bumping his head on the ceiling in the process.

Jon pats his back clumsily, doesn't commit himself to the embrace, and Brendon thinks maybe he wasn't done. When he pulls back, there are tears in Jon's eyes and he says to Brendon, "Ryan's still angry at me, and I'm guessing you are still, so I absolutely don't expect-"

"I know," Brendon breaks in, "that right now you feel like shit, and you've lost the girl you love, and you probably wish you had just never said anything, but. I just want you to know that you did the right thing. I... yeah." He takes a breath, adjusts his grip on the steering wheel. "I just wanted to say that."

Jon looks out the window. "It doesn't feel," he says quietly, "like I did anything right in this situation."

Brendon bites back a comment about Spencer that would be snide only in its execution, not in its intention, and they drive home in silence.

 

They practice and they pack in a blur of activity that covers up all their misdemeanours. Then they are on the road again and it's such a mix of euphoria and anticipation that they forget any other parts of their life, except for those four in the mornings.

 

It's only the fifth night of tour, and they come off stage with less of the overwhelmed relief that San Francisco and San Diego gave them. It's still good though, to slip into the enthusiastic compliments of their touring bands, and Brendon is thankful once more for the ethics of his label, for getting to tour with his friends.

He's sitting backstage, someone's put a cold beer in his hand, Darren's on his left and Eric is on his right and they both have their own conversations going on but for once Brendon is content simply to sit back and observe. He wants to take this moment to drink in the atmosphere in the room. Each tour is slightly different, and if he's to remember them, Brendon knows he has to slow down once in a while and let it happen outside of his own personal sphere. 

He relies too on Ryan's journals and Spencer's memory and Jon's photographs, although the latter are less prolific these days, now that Jon gives most of his time and energy to the band. Spencer's memory will probably never fade though, and Ryan still reads bits from his old journals that he thinks - knows - will make Brendon laugh.

It's thinking about Ryan that makes Brendon unconsciously look around for him. He's not there though, and it's when Brendon sees that Zack is there - talking to Shane in the corner - and so are Spencer, Eric, and Jon, he gets a little concerned.

Brendon struggles up from the couch with the help of a push from Darren, and weaves his way through the throng to Zack and Shane. 

"Zack," he says, "d'you know where Ryan is?"

Zack nods. "I took him back to the bus," he says, and Brendon feels silly for expecting anything less from Zack. 

Zack regards Brendon for a minute, then he says, "You want me to take you back too?"

Brendon shrugs. But, "Yeah," he says, "do you mind?"

To Shane, Zack says, "I'll be right back." Then he puts a hand on Brendon's shoulder and twists him to face the door. As they make their way out, he calls across to where Jon and Spencer are talking to Greta and Alex. Years of being shepherded have given the four of them an uncanny ear for Zack's voice, and they look up straight away. They want to stay longer though, and so it's just Zack and Brendon sneaking through a service entrance to get back without causing a riot.

"Are you alright?" Zack says. "Anything I should know about?"

Brendon makes eyes at him. "Zack," he says, "you know I'd tell you if there was."

"Hm," says Zack.

 

But he deposits Brendon at the door and once Brendon has confirmed that, yes, Ryan is still on the bus, Zack leaves. Brendon gets a bottle of water from the fridge and toes his shoes off right in the middle of the walkway, and then he pads softly through to the bunks. He says Ryan's name, quietly in case Ryan is asleep, but there's no response. Brendon leans closer to the curtain and listens for breathing, but there's still nothing, and when he peeks in the bunk is empty. 

Surprised, Brendon makes his way to the back, and there in the corner, Ryan is staring with unfocused gaze at a mute tv, Jon's headphones over his ears. He looks up when Brendon appears in the doorway, and takes them off.

Ryan scrubs at his eyes and he looks end-of-tour exhausted. "Hi," he says, "Is the party over?"

Brendon shakes his head. "What's up," he says, and takes care to catch words before they spill out of his mouth, afraid of saying something that will make this tired Ryan break. "You left early."

Ryan shrugs, pushes at the sidekick that is by his side and doesn't say anything.

Brendon stands in the doorway and doesn't know whether to keep talking, whether to ask or to change the subject. He's painfully aware of his own failings. In the end, he says, "So, I didn't want to disturb you, if you wanted to be alone," and Ryan looks up at him again and says, "Sorry, do you mind? I just. I need a bit more time on my own."

Brendon's nodding before Ryan's finished and he says, "Yeah, yeah, no, of course, I'll just."

He gestures behind him and Ryan gives a weak smile. "Thanks," he says, and he replaces the headphones.

 

Brendon sits in the front and watches some old episodes of Family Guy that are on his laptop. It takes an episode and a bit to shake off the concern, but by the time Ryan comes through Brendon is laughing, open mouthed and out loud. He stops when he sees Ryan and pauses the program. 

"Hey," he says. "Hey."

Ryan sits down opposite and smiles.

"I'm sorry," says Brendon, "was it too loud?"

Ryan shakes his head, no, and runs his hands through his hair. It's sticking up at the back and Brendon smiles. Then he looks back at Ryan's eyes and he's not smiling anymore and Brendon bites his lip, cautious again with words.

"Hey," he says. "What's wrong?"

Ryan doesn't answer for a long minute, turning his sidekick round and around on the table in front of him. Then he says, "Nothing serious. I had an argument with Keltie."

Brendon thinks, oh, and he thinks, bummer, and he thinks, about me? and his pulse quickens but he stays quiet.

"About the whole," Ryan pauses and waves his hand about, "Jon and Spencer thing."

Brendon's ears feel hot as he looks down at his laptop and says, "Oh."

Ryan pushes his sidekick away from him a little. He picks at a fading sticker on Brendon's laptop and says, "So apparently Cassie and Keltie talk more than I realised."

Brendon looks up and says, "Oh."

"Yeah," says Ryan, "oh. And apparently, it's my fault."

Brendon's eyebrows shoot up. 

Ryan follows suit in a slower fashion, and makes a resigned face. "Or, anyway, it's my fault that Spencer hasn't told Haley."

"D'you think that Keltie'd tell her?" 

Ryan screws his mouth up to one side. "I don't think so," he says. "Keltie's not-" He frowns down at his fingernails. "She knows where not to go, you know."

"Well," Brendon says, and mirrors Ryan, picking at the other side of the label, "that's good I guess. Why is it your fault?"

"I don't know." Ryan sighs. "But I got all defensive and she. I don't know."

Brendon makes what he thinks is a sympathetic face and says, "They'll always take the girl's side, dude."

Ryan makes a face.

 

They are sitting there still when Jon and Spencer come back, Shane, Eric and Zack in tow. The bus is filled with talking that is a little too loud for the atmosphere. Shoes are kicked off and cupboards open and close and Ryan presses his lips together and looks out the window.

Everyone is talking about the schedule for the next day, a day off before a long run. Brendon fiddles with his laptop and Ryan with his sidekick. There's nothing that Ryan particularly wants to do, not unless someone will let him fly to New York and curl up under a blanket with Keltie until she's not mad at him anymore. So he stays out of the conversation, and when Spencer sits down beside him and asks him what he thinks, Ryan just shrugs.

Spencer gives him a long look, and when Ryan doesn't say anything still, Spencer nudges his shoulder. "What's up with you," he says, but it doesn't come out very sympathetic.

Ryan shrugs again.

"What's up with him," Jon says, handing Spencer a bottle of water. 

Spencer shrugs, like it's funny. "He's having an emo moment I think." 

Jon grins in return, and sits down next to Brendon. He leans a shoulder into Brendon and peers at the laptop screen. "What're you watching," he says, "oh, what episode is this?"

Across the table, Spencer nudges Ryan again. "Come on," he says, "what happened. Did you lose a scarf or something?"

Brendon's eyes travel up to watch them, and Ryan catches his gaze before looking out the window again. "It's nothing," he says, and focuses on Brendon's reflection giving Spencer's reflection a warning look. Ryan's pretty sure that Spencer's reflection rolls its eyes, and words spill out of his mouth before he can stop them.

"Don't do that," Ryan says. "Fuck."

Spencer looks aggrieved. "Do what?" He says, and Ryan just can't stand it, he can't be bothered with people being fake-innocent. This comes out as some kind of snort, an angry exhalation of breath that turns Spencer's expression to a frown. "Look," Spencer says, "be a grouch if you want, but there's no need to take it out on your friends."

Ryan bites his tongue and spins his sidekick.

Spencer leans a little closer, as if to reiterate his point. "Come on Ryan," he says, "I didn't do anything."

Ryan looks up and Brendon's eyes are wide with surprise and then realisation, and finally warning. But Ryan disregards Brendon. He holds his gaze, and says, to Spencer, "Yeah," he says, "that's exactly it though."

He looks at Spencer. "Isn't it."

Spencer looks between them, between Brendon and Ryan, looking for the secret thread of conversation that he's clearly lost. Ryan's back to looking out the window though. He doesn't want to be sitting here, not having this conversation.

 

And as if by magic, Spencer sighs, gets up, and goes through to the back.

Ryan waits a moment before he escapes to his bunk.

 

Jon looks at Brendon. "Should I ask?" 

Brendon takes a deep breath. "No," he says, "I don't think so."

Jon considers this, then he nods at the screen. "Can I watch?"

 

Ryan manages five minutes in his bunk before he starts feeling an irritating mixture of guilt and resentment and rolls out to go to the back of the bus.

Spencer looks up when he comes in, and his expression is a little gentler. "Come on," he says, "misery guts. Spill."

Ryan sits on the edge of a seat, tense and nervous and angry, and wonders what to say. 

"Keltie and I," he says, "had a fight. Over you."

Spencer raises his eyebrows. 

"Over you not telling Haley about Jon."

 

Spencer opens his mouth a couple of times, but nothing comes out, so they sit there and stubbonrly don't talk. 

Then Ryan gives up. "She got mad at me for not making you tell her."

Spencer frowns. "What the hell," he says, "it's not your business is it?"

"I," Ryan starts, but Spencer cuts him off. 

"- Ryan, she has some nerve to say that to you."

Ryan bristles. "Has some nerve to worry about a friend of hers? Right. Yeah. She's got some nerve, Spence."

Spencer looks away, visibly bites back words. "I just mean, she shouldn't put the blame on you."

"Unlike some people," Ryan says, "Keltie's just wanting to see the right thing done. It's not about blame."

"Ryan, you just said she was mad at you for something I've done."

Ryan feels every muscle in his body tense up and he clenches his fists around his upper arms.

 

What happens then is a running circle of bitterness, as Ryan blames Spencer and Spencer blames Jon and Jon blames himself. 

Ryan says, "You put me in this position, Spencer."

Spencer says, "You had to be moral, didn't you Jon, you had to screw everything up."

Jon says, Jon says nothing. Jon's shoulders drop down and inwards and he gives Spencer a brief, appalled look before averting his eyes. Jon puts clammy hands into his pockets and tries not to say, "This isn't fair."

Jon doesn't say a word but Spencer still feels as though he's being told off. Spencer reaches out a hand and touches fingertips to Jon's sleeve. It gets Jon to look at Spencer again, at least, but Spencer doesn't know if that is a better position to be in. His stomach leaps and drops again, he swallows and feels hot and cold like it's a year ago and they were never found out.

"Jon," he says.

Jon swallows, audibly. He looks away, but when Spencer moves into his space he doesn't stop him.

Spencer is holding onto Jon's sleeve, and Jon's hand comes up in mimicry. His knuckles come to rest barely moments from Spencer's t shirt, and every muscle in Spencer's stomach jerks with anticipation.

Jon watches his own hand.

Jon's hand, it travels sideways and down a way, brushing over folds in the grey material.

When Jon's hand is next to Spencer's hip, Spencer can hardly breathe, but his hand is tight around Jon's arm. There is a thumb pressed to the dip inside his hipbone but Spencer doesn't look.

 

The door to the bunks slides open, thumps against the other side.

 

"I'm going to bed," says Brendon.

"Let me use the bathroom before you," says Jon.

Spencer's hand releases its grip.

 

Brendon doesn't say a word until the bathroom door is closed, and Brendon is in his bunk. Spencer is still standing, his back to Brendon, pretending to sort through his belongings.

"This is our life," Brendon says.

Spencer turns his head enough to show that he is listening.

"The band," Brendon clarifies, "the band is our life. Keep it out of the band, Spencer."

There is nothing to say.

 

In the middle of the night, in the back of the bus, Ryan sits with his toes under Brendon's discarded hoodie. He stares at it until his eyes water, and then he closes them, so he doesn't see Brendon appear in the doorway.

Brendon slides the door shut behind him and walks to Ryan, feet soft and quiet, veering slightly to the left in his just-woken state. When he gets to the seating, a foot away from where he intended, Ryan puts out an arm and reels him in.

Brendon folds himself around Ryan, goes to sleep in the curve of Ryan's neck.

 

They stay in silence, until Brendon shivers, hairs rising all up his arms. Ryan drags the hoodie from beneath Brendon and covers the both of them as best he can. He can't see Brendon's face, but he can feel a cold nose pressed beneath his jaw, and he feels when Brendon smiles, rough skin dragging across Ryan's. Brendon's hand flexes behind Ryan's back, and he says, "Why aren't you awake?"

Ryan blinks a couple of times. 

"You know what I mean," Brendon says. He is slurring the words together like individually they would be too much effort. "Are you thinking about Keltie?"

Ryan shrugs, and dislodges Brendon's head. When Brendon shifts, sits up a bit and watches Ryan's profile, Ryan starts to speak.

It's 4am rubbish, and Ryan knows that, but.

He keeps speaking, anyhow.

Brendon doesn't stay still, he moves his toes in circles and pulls the hoodie back and forth in unnoticeable increments, but he stays looking at Ryan.

 

It's Keltie, but it's also the band and the pressure and the feel of being adrift and clueless, and Ryan speaks in minute long segments, with three minute breaks in between. Brendon stays quiet the whole time.

 

"I'm just," says Ryan, and then the words run out and he tips his head back against the wall and closes his eyes. He feels drained, and tired, and all of a sudden sleepy. He feels Brendon's eyes on him and he swallows. It hurts his throat to swallow at that angle.

Brendon shifts his whole body then. Ryan's too. Ryan swallows again and then they're touching in so many places. The hoodie falls to the floor and Ryan can only find one spot on his body not warmed by Brendon. 

"Hey, okay," Brendon says. "Hey."

"It's falling apart," says Ryan.

"No," Brendon says. "No, no."

Ryan looks away.

"You and her can work this out," says Brendon.

Ryan turns his head further. After a few minutes, he says, "I'm going to go back to bed."

It takes Brendon a few moments to let go and when Ryan counts them it makes his head hurt. He falls asleep when his head hits the pillow.

 

If anything, the last year has given the four of them an opportunity to learn to discard their pride. Spencer does an interview with Brendon the next day, and he doesn't snipe once. He smiles at Brendon like Brendon is his best friend again. Brendon has to look away and catch his breath but he smiles back.

 

Jon tabs a song for Ryan and they work on harmonies together until Brendon and Spencer get back to the bus.

 

Brendon props himself across from Ryan, and their toes almost meet. Brendon watches Ryan until Ryan looks at him, and then he looks away. When he looks back, Ryan looks at Jon.

They keep talking and singing through it.

It's after the show when Ryan leans into Brendon and says, "We never had our sleepover." 

Ryan isn't all too aware of anything that happens in the five minutes that follow Brendon's answering smile.

 

Brendon takes great delight in dropping the sleepover into every conversation with Jon and Spencer and Zack that he can. He raises his eyebrows and widens his eyes and Jon laughs and Spencer smiles at Jon but Brendon is only happy that they are being mean to him together.

He prefers it this way, anyway, out of all the ways of the past year.

Ryan uninvites them because they won't join in the spirit of the sleepover.

 

They try to commandeer the whole bus but Zack puts a stop to that, and Ryan has to chivvy a sulking Brendon into the back of the bus. Brendon picks up his hoodie from where it is still on the floor, and he puts it on. He stands in the middle of the bus and Ryan stands by the door. "Can I wear this?" Brendon says.

"It's your hoodie."

"No, for the sleepover," says Brendon, "or do I have to wear only pyjamas?" 

Ryan tilts his head. "But," he says, "You're not wearing pyjamas." 

Brendon steps close to Ryan and Ryan has to pull his head back a fraction to focus on Brendon's face. "Ryan," says Brendon, "don't ruin the magic!" and when Ryan stares back at him, deadpan, Brendon breaks into a smile and a laugh. 

There is wine and a heap of candy waiting for them, and Ryan has three Hershey's kisses in his mouth before Brendon can even get the bottle open. They curl up on blankets and cushions and a duvet that Greta lent to them, and they drink half a glass each in silence. Then Brendon tells Ryan a story that Darren told him and Ryan laughs in the right places, or at least he smiles when Brendon does. It takes the rest of the glass, and at the end they listen to Jon wailing along to Journey through the closed door. At the end of the song, they meet each others' eye and laugh, unable to contain themselves. 

"Hey!" Jon cries, and bangs on the door. They laugh harder, and he goes away.

Two and a half glasses in, Brendon looks up from his cross legged lap and says, "What should we do at a pyjama sleepover, anyway?"

Ryan takes a drink and looks thoughtful.

"I don't know," he says, and runs a finger around his wine glass. "Tell each other secrets and shit I suppose." 

He wets a fingers and runs it around again. There's a slight squeak but nothing more. Ryan looks put out.

 

Brendon watches Ryan, feels giddy and sick and blames the wine.

He blames the wine when he says, "I'm happiest on stage."

Ryan looks up at him, startled until he registers that Brendon is telling him a secret. Then his face falls, so briefly that Brendon thinks he could probably blame the wine for that too. He takes another drink.

"When I was eleven," says Ryan, "I told Spencer's sister where he kept his chocolate in return for her Backstreet Boys album."

The wine goes up Brendon's nose.

They laugh and laugh until Brendon's eyes are wet with tears and Ryan has lain down with the effort.

"I'm sorry," Brendon says, when he can breath again. "I'm sorry I didn't mean it."

Ryan looks him in the eye, like he knows Brendon's lying.

Except Brendon isn't lying. "I didn't," he says, "I'm happy there. But I'm happiest-"

He stops, and they look at each other until Ryan breaks the gaze. Ryan pours them more wine and Brendon uncrosses his legs and sits back against the seat instead, legs propped up in front of him. He takes the glass from Ryan and takes a moment to let his mind whirl.

"Do you think," he says, "That what Jon and Spencer did almost messed the band up because they were lying to everyone, or because they hooked up?"

Ryan looks down at his glass. He looks sort of terrified.

"I kind of think it was the former," says Brendon."

Ryan shakes his head and shrugs his shoulders, rolling a celophane wrapped kiss around between his fingers. 

"Does it matter?" He says.

Brendon looks at him until Ryan has to look back. "I don't know," Brendon says. "Does it?"

No bullshit, Ryan thinks, and he says, "I know what you're saying."

Brendon shrugs. "Of course you do," he says, and drinks his wine.

Ryan unwraps the kiss and places it on the carpet in front of him. 

"I'm not being sarcastic," Brendon says, "I know you get it, I know you're not stupid."

Ryan takes a deep breath. "What do you want me to say."

He watches Brendon while Brendon thinks of all of the things he can't say, and then Brendon says, "Say you're happy."

Ryan stops, starts again, mouths silently a little. "I," he says, "I."

"Brendon," he says.

Brendon looks down.

"I'm happy," Ryan says, and he knows he didn't say it right.

"You could," Brendon says, not snide but only a little regretful, "say it more like you didn't wish you were sad."

 

There's a long set of minutes that drag out until the wine is finished and Brendon gets tired of waiting for a response.

Then Ryan says, "I'm happy but-"

"When are you happiest?" Brendon says.

"When," says Ryan, and shrugs helplessly, "when I'm with you, you guys, you three."

"You," he finishes a little lamely. He looks at Brendon, knows what Brendon is thinking and wishes he didn't. It's not your fault, he thinks, none of this is anyone's fault. And, I'm a walking cliche.

"Brendon," he starts, and he has nothing to finish with but Brendon sits up and says, "Sorry. I'm being a dick." 

 

They watch Sixteen Candles to fill the gap between the effects of wine and sleep, and when it finishes they are slotted together again. Neither of them know how it happened, but there it is. Brendon lifts his head from where it was resting against Ryan's chest and, "Ow," he says, and rubs his face. "Your bony ribs have bruised me."

Ryan shoves at him, and Brendon turns and clings harder. "My pretty face," he says, "Ryan, my poor pretty face."

"I'll show your face poor," Ryan says, and after a beat they both start laughing.

 

Brendon tightens his arms around Ryan and then he says, "Are you happy with Keltie?"

He feels Ryan stiffen beneath him, and he says, "Sorry."

Ryan doesn't respond at all, but he doesn't let go.

Brendon breaths in Ryan's t shirt and wonders if anyone else is aware that they are on the brink of disaster.

"Have you forgiven Spencer and Jon?" He asks, and this time Ryan takes a breath and says, "Yes."

Brendon lifts his head. The room is mostly dark but they left the curtains open and Ryan's face is lit by rhythmic pulses of orange light from the highway. He is squashing his chin down to look at Brendon and Brendon wants to smile so he does. "Really?" He says, and tried to stop smiling because he's being serious about this, he is.

Ryan tips his head back to the horizontal and Brendon can stop smiling. 

"Yeah," Ryan says. "I guess it just took time, hm."

Brendon stares.

Ryan tilts his chin back down and Brendon starts smiling again, helpless and light headed.

"What?" Says Ryan, "Why are you laughing at me?"

Brendon laughs.

"I'm not," he says, "hey."

"I'll spoil your pretty face," Ryan threatens, and Brendon smiles wider.

They stay like that, and then Brendon is a fraction closer and Ryan is swallowing and the room is too dark for this.

"Brendon," says Ryan, and Brendon closes his eyes this time. "No," he says.

Ryan's body is tense with the effort of holding his head up. 

"No what?"

Brendon doesn't know, so he stays quiet.

"I guess I forgave them," Ryan says, slowly, "because I guess I got it. I got what happened. All this time I was thinking, how the fuck did this happen, how were two of my best friends so in lust that they couldn't keep their hands off each other."

He pauses, and Brendon stares at a point just past Ryan's chin.

"And then I got it," Ryan says, "it's this band, it's being in a band like this."

Ryan stops again but Brendon still doesn't know what to say. So he says, "Stop talking," and he props himself up on his elbows and presses a nose to Ryan's cheek. "Fuck," he says, and pulls back as quick as he got there. He sits up with his back to Ryan.

Ryan touches a hand to the bottom of Brendon's spine and feels him shiver. He watches Brendon's shoulders tense up and hears Brendon say, "Don't."

"This band is like a relationship," Ryan says, "worse and better than what any of us have with our girlfriends, I think." 

He touches fingertips to Brendon's back this time, and Brendon's shoulders shrug a little angrily in response.

"Jon and Spencer," says Ryan, "I think anyway," he says, "reacted by pushing that relationship to the only logical place they could think of."

Brendon scoffs.

Ryan tries to take a breath but he's still in an awkward position. He looks at Brendon's back and panics.

"But you can be in love with your band," Ryan says, and feels stupid, "I mean, like," stupider, "in - in a platonic way." Stupidest. 

Brendon leaves the room so quickly that he almost trips over Ryan's feet. He doesn't bother to close the door quietly.

 

Ryan gets a text, That's bs.

 

Brendon gets one in return, You don't have to take everything at face value.

 

Ryan gets, "we must reinvent love" ha ha, and switches off his sidekick.

 

He doesn't get, Seriously, Ryan?

Or, So tell me what was not to take at face value.

Or, Fuck off are you asleep.

 

He doesn't get, Goodnight or When the day met the night either.

 

The next morning, Brendon goes rummaging in boxes after his shower, and when he comes out of the bunks he's wearing a Reinvent Love t-shirt and whistling a tune.

Ryan walks out.

"You're being a dick," says Spencer.

Brendon looks put upon. "What am I doing," he says.

"I don't know," Spencer says, "but I know when you're being a dick. Stop it." 

Brendon scowls.

Ryan doesn't exactly avoid him for the rest of the day, but he manages to pretend Brendon isn't there. Brendon spends the day bothering the Hush Sound. He sits on Chris' lap a lot and doesn't look for Ryan.

 

Brendon wears the t shirt three days in a row, until one morning it's not in the bunk where he left it. He looks in both his bunks, he checks the bathroom, he double checks the bunks, he looks under all the cushions in the back lounge, and then he stamps into the front of the bus. 

"Where the fuck is my t shirt," he demands, "my reinvent love t shirt."

Spencer raises an eyebrow over his coffee cup. "Calm down," he says, and Brendon does the opposite. "Just get another one out of the box. Yours was starting to stink anyway."

Brendon ignores him. "I left it in the bunk below mine," he says, "so either I'm losing it, or one of you has taken it."

Jon looks sceptical. "Why would one of us take your t shit, Brendon," he says around a mouthful of muesli.

"I don't fucking-"

"Chill out," Ryan says. "Jesus. It's in my bunk."

Brendon stares at him, and when Ryan just looks back, unperturbed, Brendon storms to Ryan's bunk.

He comes back, t shirt in hand. It is folded neatly, and he shakes it out as he swears at Ryan. 

He's halfway through, "Keep your hands off my shit," when he stops, and frowns down at the t shirt. 

"What," he starts, and then his face clears and he looks up at Ryan, mouth hanging open a little. 

Ryan gives a small smile. "It'll sell for a bomb on eBay now," he says. 

Brendon smiles, slow and wide. "Fuck off," he says, sounding a little dazed.

"What's going on," Jon asks.

Brendon holds his arms out, and Ryan walks into them. "You're an idiot," Ryan says.

Brendon smiles into his neck, closes his eyes for a brief moment. Then he looks at Jon and Spencer, who are staring, bemused and uncertain, and holds out his arms to them behind Ryan's back. When he makes grabbing motions with his hands, they both stand up and come over. 

Four sets of arms pile on top of each other. In the middle, Ryan makes a choking sound, but Brendon only nuzzles his neck and squeezes tighter.

"It's just a t shirt," Ryan says. 

"You're just a closet romantic," returns Brendon.

"Touche," says Jon, and,

"My coffee's going cold," says Spencer.

Brendon smacks his head and Spencer laughs into Brendon's hair. Ryan makes another noise. "Okay," says Brendon. They distangle themselves.

"What's all the fuss about anyway," says Jon, and Brendon holds the shirt up, grinning.

It's still white with a small ketchup stain at the bottom, and it still says reinvent love, but now, in the heart, there are four letters sharpied on.

"R, S, J, B," Jon reads, and gives Ryan a delighted grin.

"Shut up," says Ryan. "Don't even."

 

Brendon's on his own in the kitchenette when Shane comes in later.

"Oh hey," Brendon says, pulling a Red Bull from the fridge. "Find any fangirls?"

Shane shrugs, drops his videocamera on the couch and drops down beside it. "Oh, one or two," he says, "but they were here to see The Hush Sound anyway."

Brendon grins in response. He sits opposite Shane who peers at Brendon's t shirt.

"What does that say?"

Brendon tucks his chin into his chest and looks at it. "What - oh!" He grins again. "I love my band."

Shane raises his eyebrows. "You... nevermind." 

"Wait, is this like in Europe?" he queries, lowering his voice.

Brendon regards the t shirt a moment longer, than he looks up at Shane. "Sometimes I," he starts, and then he glances towards the bunks. 

Shane stands up again. "D'you want a smoke?" 

 

Outside the bus, more public, more private, Shane lights up and says, "So."

Brendon sticks his hands in his pockets, scrapes at some loose asphalt with his toe. 

"On a scale of one to ten, how likely are you to walk away if I say that I'm in love with them," he asks, watching his feet.

Shane asks, "Who's 'them'?"

Brendon frowns. "Well. All of them." 

Shane's answering silence betrays him. Says Brendon, "What? What are you thinking?"

Shane hands him the cigarette and says, "Oh, don't get me wrong, falling in love with three of your best friends is so much better than just two of them."

Brendon's head snaps up and he looks at Shane, hurt. Shane smiles. "Hey, I'm kidding, sorry. I guess I don't really know what to say when my friend tells me he's in love with his band." 

Biting his lip, Brendon shrugs his shoulders up and down and says, "I mean. It's not like Europe. I think, like, I've realised that it's actually kind of normal to be in love with your band."

Shane stares.

"You know?" Brendon says. 

"Um," says Shane, "for your band maybe," and he grins.

"Shut up," says Brendon, but he smiles wide. "Shut up." 

"Ryan said something, the other night. And he said it for the wrong reasons and he was a total dick about it, but he kind of made sense too. But I guess a relationship isn't the next logical step, for a band."

"I'm pretty sure polygamy's still illegal in most US states," says Shane, and takes the cigarette from Brendon's fingers. 

Brendon grins, distracted. He says, "and like, sometimes I want to make out with them too, but that is totally also normal."

Shane looks sceptical. 

"I'm kidding," Brendon says, and Shane doesn't call him out for lying.

 

They go back inside, and Shane heads to the back lounge where his laptop is set up. Brendon half heartedly opens cupboard doors and looks at the food but he's not really hungry. He goes after Shane instead. "Shane Valdes!" He cries, wanting to fill the silence. "I know you want to too! Don't deny your feelings!"

And as he follows Shane through the bunks he hears,

"Just Brendon being a tool as usual."

Brendon spins on his heel and yanks open the curtain. It reveals Ryan squinting out at him, barely supressing a grin. He has the phone tucked between his ear and the pillow. 

"Who are you talking to?" Brendon demands.

"Keltie."

Brendon rests his arms on Ryan's bunk and puts his chin on top of them. "Does she know that you gave me a love token?" He says, and makes his eyes big and round.

Ryan blinks. "It was her idea," he says.

Brendon pulls back for a second, thrown by Ryan's reply. Then he narrows his eyes. He grabs the phone from Ryan and says, "Keltie!" 

"Hi Brendon," Keltie says, and Brendon smiles. "How are you?"

Ryan almost falls out of his bunk trying to get the phone back, but Brendon dances out of reach and says, "I'm awesome thanks for asking, how are you?"

Says Keltie, "Pretty good, yeah, just on a break." Ryan bangs his head and falls back inside. Brendon laughs. "Good," he says, "I'm glad to hear it. So hey, just wondering, was the t shirt modification your idea?" And Keltie sounds geniunely lost when she says, "What t shirt?"

Brendon grins, and Ryan buries his face in his blanket. "Nevermind," Brendon says, "Here's Ryan."

He hands the phone back to Ryan, who glares and takes it in a vice-like grip. Placing both hands on the wooden panel outside Ryan's bunk, Brendon pushes himself up and drops a kiss right on Ryan's mouth.

Ryan's eyes go wide and he wipes at his mouth. "Augh," he says, but it's drowned out by Brendon leaning close to the phone and declaring happily, "Keltie, I'm in love with your boyfriend."

When he pulls away, Ryan is rolling his eyes. "Keltie says," he intones, " 'so am I'."

Brendon smiles. "Well obviously," he says. He reaches a hand out and musses Ryan's hair. Ryan pushes his hand away and lets their fingers interlock. Brendon's stomach drops. So does his smile, but it is back as soon as it leaves and if it is a little softer, Ryan doesn't notice.

"Shane," Brendon calls, turning from Ryan, "Shane, you're in love with Ryan too, right?" 

He gives Ryan's fingers a squeeze and then pulls away. Their arms are stretched before they let go, although who's holding on, Brendon couldn't say.

"Don't tell me," he says, and disappears into the back room. Ryan hears the rest of the sentence - "I already know" - muted. 

He leaves the curtain open and goes back to his conversation


End file.
